"Where did it all go wrong?" Melvin muttered as he sat in his study, holding a wine bottle while seated with his legs spread apart.
With his disheveled hair, battered face, and completely soulless eyes, it was easy to tell that he was completely out of it.
Taking a swig from the bottle he carried, Melvin sighed. "All I wanted to do was make this city a better place."
Of course that was a lie.
From the moment he learned about the difference in class, Melvin had always been one to attack peasants.
It gave him great joy watching them suffer to earn their daily bread.
His ego was twisted and for a man like him, seeing peasants enjoy was a disgusting sight.
He never tried to change or rein in his desires to act out against them, even when he managed to luck out with getting a job as the Chief of Police for BoneHaven.
Solely through connections like Ambrose, Melvin gained the position.
Unlike Ambrose, however, his administration in the Royal Blue was the worst one recorded since BoneHaven was built.
Not a single high-profile case was solved.
The Royal Blue had turned from a law enforcement agency to one focused on bootlicking the nobles at every opportunity and punishing peasants whenever they had the chance.
Unfortunately, no one said anything since no serious case had come up during his tenure... save for say, the Butcher case that is.
However, the Butcher only targeted the middle class so the nobles didn’t bother too much about it.
The only reason the Butcher case was considered high profile was that the middle class had to curry favor from the nobles to take the situation seriously.
"Fucking journalist." Melvin cursed as he recalled the face of the man that ruined his chances at the Butcher case.
And now he completely lost everything with the rebel case.
Taking another swig from his bottle, Melvin sought to drown himself in his sorrows.
Just then, there was a knock at the door.
"Sir... your uncle is calling for you." A feminine voice came from the other side.
Melvin cursed. "Get out of there!... I don’t plan to see anyone!"
Knowing her master’s disgusting temperament, the maid didn’t dare to remain any longer before scurrying away from the door.
"Fucking bastard." Melvin already knew what would happen if he met with his uncle.
"Everyone is just so fucking annoying!... What’s all the fuss about killing a few peasants!... You all can go to hell for all I care!" Cursing to his heart’s content, Melvin paused to catch his breath.
Due to his drunken state, he didn’t notice the slight fluctuations in the area around him.
Just as he planned to say more, a soft voice came from a corner of his study.
"Quite a foul mouth you have for a noble." Chuckling softly, the voice added. "Makes me wonder if you are deserving of the title of a noble."
"Who is it?" Melvin quickly turned to find a man covered in bandages and wearing a brown overcoat seated a few meters away from him.
"You...who are you and how did you get in here?" Melvin turned apprehensive at the appearance of the strange man in his study.
Attempting to stand up, however, caused him to stumble due to being heavily drunk.
The bandaged man chuckled as he mocked. "Pathetic. These are the so-called nobles that dare to think they are better than peasants."
"Don’t you dare mock me!" Melvin angrily replied. "And I am better than a peasant!... I will always be better than them!"
"I see." The bandaged man leaned forward and then muttered. "Let’s see how different you are from a peasant then, shall we?"
Melvin turned wide-eyed but before he could say anything... his world went blank.
Alex stood on a pew, overlooking the Gordon mansion.
Wearing his leather jacket with a mask and a curved-brim hat, he watched the house with interest.
"There’s no movement," Alex muttered cautiously once his inspection was done.
It was a bit too quiet even if he considered that it was quite late at night.
Narrowing his eyes, he wondered. "Did something happen?"
He came tonight to get information on the group of nobles deeply connected to making peasants’ lives a living hell from Melvin Gordon since he was their watchdog.
This came as a result of the telegram he had found after taking care of Madhound and his goons.
After figuring out the best method to handle the situation, Alex decided to leave the telegram behind to be found by those that would come looking the next day.
Of course, he had to consider that the Royal Blue would find it, so he ensured he kept it somewhere an Enforcer would look.
There was a difference between where both could go, similar to how there was a difference between the CIA and state police concerning how they go about searching.
In any case, he hadn’t learned about what happened after he left so his coming here was to confirm Melvin’s case and retrieve the information he wanted.
However, upon his arrival, an eeriness had already settled on the Gordon mansion.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t pry out further information... mostly because it seemed as though something was blocking him out.
Taking a moment to consider, he decided to make a move.
Disappearing almost instantly with the blend of black and white glow accompanying him, he appeared on the balcony connected to Melvin’s study.
Just as he closed his eyes to spread his senses, he heard a voice from within the study.
"Come in... the door isn’t locked."
Alex paused his actions and after careful consideration, leisurely made his way into the study.
The study was filled with a few shelves with books on them, a round table with two chairs on either side, and even a couch at one end of the room.
Alex saw Melvin seated on one of the chairs but his condition was currently... unknown.
However, judging from his distorted expression, it didn’t seem like whatever he was experiencing was good.
Sighing heavily, Alex casually glanced at the couch placed in a corner of the room before asking in a relaxed manner.